


now home is just a house

by thejericho (lipsticktovoid)



Series: You Must Come Back [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, basically an infinity war kind of au, nat you lil sarcastic piece of, steve wtf you lyinnn, t'challa is friends with bucky, yasss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipsticktovoid/pseuds/thejericho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky thinks it's important that they try to smile, try to talk and share. It makes bad days a little better, even if their emotions aren't entirely real. Like maybe for the first time ever, he feels hope. Steve is his hope. Bucky loves his empty eyes, even if they've lost some of their blue, as they fill with affection when they see Bucky truly smiling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Together Again

When Bucky opens his eyes the world seems to be a one big blur. His head is heavy and in pain, making it impossible to think about anything. He feels unbearable heat overwhelming his whole body, his lungs burn as if somebody made him swallow burning coal. He stares at the snow white ceiling, trying to piece his broken mind together. He’s not even sure if it’s white as various colors sneak through his vision, dancing like fire sparks.

A couple of minutes, maybe hours pass, he doesn’t know, everything seems to happen very slowly, and he becomes aware of the place he’s in, it’s oddly quiet. It feels like time stopped, a long time ago, and now Bucky’s just lying in the abyss, collapsing into it deeper and deeper with every moment, and to his surprise, he doesn’t even care. He feels empty, and if that’s possible, that emptiness fills him, making him just stare at that odd ceiling for an indefinite amount of time.

He hasn’t moved his head yet, so he does it as that thought comes to his mind. It’s immensely difficult and intense pain makes him both moan and break out in sweat. And suddenly in the silence he can hear some rustling, which isn‘t caused by himself. He looks at the right corner of the room and recognizes the silhouette of a man sitting in the chair. As his sight focuses, he sees a little smile on the man’s lips, dark circles under his eyes and messy blonde hair. He knows he’s just woken up Steve with his groans, but seeing him is way better than staring at the ceiling.

“Hi,” Steve whispers without hiding his happiness, a big smile appearing on this lips.

“Hi,” mouths Bucky, unable to utter the sound. “Where am I?” his lungs give out as he tries to speak louder.

“In hospital,” Steve’s voice is still quiet, like he’s scared of startling Bucky. “In Wakanda.”

Bucky doesn’t respond, he tries to recall the past, what happened before he woke up in this room. He remembers the Civil War, scattered memories come to his mind at the same time, he hardly sorts them, giving them any sense. He remembers Siberia, both from 1991 and 2016, and that’s when his memories start to blur. When he sees explosions behind his eyelids, panic flows into his stomach and he opens his eyes immediately, looking at his left side with both hope and disappointment. It’s empty. A stump of his metal arm covered with dark material, exactly the same as he remembered it. He suddenly sees ice, rough feeling appears inside his lungs and he doesn’t even have to look at Steve to see his sad blue eyes, filled with hopelessness and guilt. He doesn’t even have to listen to hear his voice saying _I’ll see you soon_ , so sorrowful and blank.

Suddenly the doors open quietly and soft wind blows inside. Sam holds two cups of coffee in his hands, and when he spots Bucky’s opened eyes, he stops startled. He looks different. Different than Bucky remembered him. His hair is lighter, grayer, his face’s got maybe three or four new wrinkles, but it’s an unimaginable change when you haven’t seen somebody for… “How long?” Bucky asks pitiably.

Steve looks at Sam helplessly, like he’s not sure if time has actually stopped or continued to pass, he looks so lost that it makes Bucky want to take the question back. But Sam just hands him the coffee and without looking at Barnes, he says leisurely, “Two years.”

Bucky really wants to place his hand on his head, but after quick reconsideration, he guesses that it’d be too painful to possibly handle. He keeps his hand on the sheet and tries not to shed a tear. _Oh my God_ , he murmurs, closing his eyes, unable to handle the reality again. He has lost _seventy_ _years_ of his life, and now he loses another two of them. Not that it’s so overwhelming for him, because he doesn’t age, but Sam ages and everybody he’s ever hurt ages, and – what hurts him the most – Steve has been waiting for him for two years and another two years before, which is four years in total, and this is really _too much_ for Bucky to handle. He feels this terrible guilt piercing his whole body and soul.

And before Bucky notices, Steve is sitting on his right side, in the same ugly chair that he has slept in, tangling their fingers together and gently kissing his right hand. He gives Bucky a sad smile, but his eyes begin to lighten up, they are _together_ _again_ and that’s what really matters.

And as Bucky stares really deeply into these blue eyes with a hint of green, he realizes that Steve went through hell over these two years, that he’s suffered for both of them, when Bucky was busy sleeping in ice. And this makes his heart break into pieces, maybe even literally, because he feels a terrible ache inside his chest. He’s been hiding in Wakanda like a criminal he is now, like they all are now. Bucky knows the rest of the team was put into prison and he knows Steve’s planned to rescue them for weeks. And he’d done it, which surely led to a lot of fucking consequences. He can’t even imagine how many organizations are now up to get them, how scared Steve has been for those two years, even if he never shows his fear. And as Steve stares into Bucky’s eyes, he knows Bucky’s worried, so he just strokes his cheek with his other hand.

“How’s your head?” Steve asks.

 _My head?_ Bucky thinks, frowning.

“Oh,” Steve makes a sound like he forgot about something. “You had surgery to disable the trigger words in your head.”

“What?”

“Remember? You decided to keep yourself in ice until they find a way to fix it,” says Steve calmly. “T’Challa and…” he tilts his head down. “ And Tony, with other doctors, have worked for the last two years to make it possible.” He looks at Bucky with a fake smile. “It’s gone now. You are safe.”

Bucky thinks for a moment. The fact that Tony had his part in it doesn’t even confuse him nor is he surprised, like… like he trusts him. Of course, it’s not true, but Tony rummaging in his brain isn’t that scary as it should’ve seemed to be in the first place. And he’s got T’Challa, who… also should’ve scared him, he tried to kill him, though, but he surprisingly trusts him now, as he gave Steve and Sam a shelter and kept them safe.

“Is Tony okay?” Bucky whispers, not sure why he asked about him.

It takes moment for Steve to answer. “Yes, he’s okay.”

“And T‘Challa?”

“He is okay, too.” Steve smiles, it reminds him about old Bucky, back when they were just kids in Brooklyn, and Bucky had a big heart worrying about everybody but himself.

“And are you okay?” Bucky keeps asking.

Steve laughs. “Yes, I am okay. And happy to have you back, sweetheart.”

Bucky‘s stomach fills with a pleasing warmth and he tries not to laugh, so he doesn’t cause more pain. Suddenly Sam makes an _Aww_ noise in the back of the room and grins, “You’re not gonna ask me if _am I okay_?”

“Alright,” Bucky smiles at him, he still feels weird when he looks at him. Sam does look different and it’s hard to understand. “Are you _okay_ , pal?” he asks in a hoarse voice.

“Hell nah, man,” Sam raises his voice a little, pretending to be pissed off. “They gave me cold coffee in Star _buck_ s.” He bursts out laughing, winking at Steve, who shakes his head.

“Wait. What’s Starbucks?” asks Bucky.

“ _Aww_ , man-“ Sam groans incredulously.

“It’s a coffee shop,” Steve says it like a concerned mother, with a calming steady voice.

“You know what, I’ll take you to Starbucks when you get out of here,” says Sam. “But you pay.”

“And when do I get out of here?”

“In a couple of days, I think,” says Steve.

The room gets filled with awkward silence as none of them knows what to say next. Finally Sam says, “I’ll look for the doc to tell him you woke up,” then leaves, and Bucky and Steve eventually are alone.

“I missed you,” Steve whispers.

Bucky’s heart breaks into tiny pieces once again and he doesn’t know what to say. He wishes he could respond with the same words, but that would be a lie – he thinks it’s impossible to miss somebody while you’re frozen. “I know,” he murmurs.

Steve slightly gets up from a chair and leans over Bucky, kissing his warm forehead.

 


	2. To Feel Like a Human

Bucky enters some dark hallway, the lights on the ceiling are off, the only source of light comes from a little window behind him. Even though this place doesn’t look old, it’s rather decorated in modern style, it reminds him of Brooklyn, of rotten wooden floors and draughty windows, smell of his mother’s soup and muddy boots that Steve used to leave in the porch. He sighs when he reminds himself that this place doesn’t exist anymore, it’s just a memory that lies inside one of his notebooks, maybe even more than just one of them.

T’Challa follows him as he takes unsteady steps forward. He’s Bucky’s friend now. He somehow got back all of Bucky’s notebooks, and the government wasn’t really favorable about it. Bucky thinks T’Challa must’ve broken the law with this one, and he’s not sure why T’Challa does so much for him, for Steve and probably the rest of the team. That makes him unsure whether he should trust him or not, but in this case he needs all the help he can get.

Bucky stops right in front of a door with the number “72” on it, T’Challa opens it with a single key and lets Bucky inside.

“Your new home,” says T’Challa.

Bucky sets  aside two backpacks, one with the notebooks he took from his old apartment two years ago, and one with clothes Steve bought him when he was asleep. He looks around, the apartment is spatial and warm, walls painted in beige and brown, he bets Steve painted them himself.

“He isn’t here, is he?” Bucky asks with a fake smile. “When you picked me up from the hospital, you said Steve’s gonna be there.”

T’Challa sighs, he definitely doesn’t like to lie. “If I hadn‘t told you this, you wouldn’t have gone with me.”

Bucky smiles to himself, he knows it was Steve’s idea. “So, when is he going to be there?”

T’Challa sits on the stool right next to the counter extended beyond the kitchen area and he picks up a red apple from the basket on it. “You need to know one thing, I don’t know if anybody already told you, but nobody knows you all are there, okay? To the public and government you’re criminals.” T’Challa looks at him to check if Bucky’s listening to him. “Steve’s at Sam’s home, it’s far away from here. We’ve came up with some kind of plan, they barely leave their apartments, only at night, they don’t use public transport, neither will you,” he turns his voice down, ”It’s too dangerous…” T’Challa looks at his watch. “In three hours Steve should be here. Do you want me to wait with you or shall I leave?”

“I‘m okay alone,” Bucky answers.

T’Challa agrees. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thanks.” He answered with a quick smile.

 

Once the door‘s closed, Bucky gets up from the couch and walks around the apartment. He enters a room that looks like Steve’s bedroom, it’s small and homely, a double bed stands in the left corner, right next to a large window with curtained shutters, that throws striped orange light on the fluffy white carpet on the floor. There’s a dresser made of light wood and hydrangeas in a flowerpot standing on it. Bucky touches its ground with his fingers and realizing it being too dry, he heads to the kitchen, pulls a glass out of the cupboard, fills it with water from the tap and comes back to Steve’s bedroom to water his flowers. He smiles as he thinks that maybe he saved these poor hydrangeas, forgotten in the rush of the week.

He sits on Steve’s messy bed. Steve’s never liked to make his bed, and Bucky smiles when he thinks about it. He remembers to write it down later in his notebook. Bucky picks up one white pillow and hugs it with his right hand, pressing his head to it, smelling Steve’s hair.

Later he enters the room with the closed door, and it turns out that it’s his own bedroom. The walls are painted green, it’s Bucky’s favorite color, and the fact that Steve painted it that way warms up his heart. He even hung a huge pin board on the wall, so Bucky could place together his memories. The bed has only a white mattress on it, and Bucky sits on it when he spots a framed picture of the Howling Commandos on the bedside cabinet. He knows that picture, he saw it in the museum, he even has his own copy in one of his notebooks. He grabs the frame and stares at it, places it on his thighs, then whispers the names of every member, following their faces with his finger, from left to right. When he is finished the room gets filled with silence, and Bucky puts the picture back on its place.

He stands up and looks at the calendar with photos of cute little puppies, and shakes his head, laughing quietly. The year on it is 2017, and Bucky thinks that Steve must’ve bought it a year ago, which means he thought that Bucky would come back a year ago, and it makes him sad, he imagines the disappointment in Steve’s eyes as T’Challa tells him that he’s made a mistake and it’s impossible to wake him up for now. Steve must’ve suffered so much, he probably decorated this bedroom as soon as he moved into this place, and then it stayed empty for two years. He thinks that Steve felt so lonely as he woke up in this new world, and that maybe at some point he embraced the fact that Bucky’s never coming home. And then they met each other on this bridge, but only one of them knew the other one. It breaks Bucky’s heart every time, and most likely will never stop.

 

Later this evening Bucky takes a shower, and when he pours shampoo on his hand, it smells like Steve’s pillow, so fresh and sweet at the same time. He hasn’t smelled anything that pleasing for such a long time. He takes some comfortable clothes out of his backpack and gets dressed. He’s hungry but has no idea if he should eat Steve’s food, so he just decides he’ll wait for him to come home.

He sits on the couch in the living room, takes his notebook and starts writing down everything that’s happened today; the fact that Steve doesn’t like to make his bed, and that he made a special bedroom for Bucky, and that his shampoo smells like the mango that Bucky bought at the market one day. He opens another notebook on the page marked with a pink sticky note, and stares at Steve’s picture. He hasn’t seen him in the last couple of days, after Bucky woke up after the surgery, he was sleeping for most of the time, he doesn’t even remember much of what’s happened in the meantime. He reads the notes on that page, whispering under his breath, memorizing every single thing, in case something slipped out of his mind.

At some point Bucky hears the sound of a turning key in the door lock, and he immediately startles, getting up from the couch. Steve stands in the doorstep, and after pulling his cap off his head, he combs his hair back with his fingers.

“Hi,” he says, smiling.

“Hi,” repeats Bucky, he laughs and wrinkles appear on the very corners of his blue eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

Bucky thinks for a moment, unsure whether he should response with an honest answer or just reassure Steve that everything’s fine. “Good,” he mumbles.

Steve just agrees with a little smile, and then everything seems to look pretty awkward as they both stand on the opposite sides of the room, staring at their feet in silence.

“I bet you’re really hungry,” says Steve as he heads to the kitchen.

“Yeah, a little.”

“What do you wanna eat?” Steve leans over the counter, looking at Bucky, who keeps standing in the same place. “Hey,” he turns his voice down, “you don’t need to be afraid of anything… especially me.”

Bucky comes closer to him, leans over the same counter with his right hand as well, but he still keeps the safe distance between them. “I’ll eat whatever you make,” he says quietly.

“Alright,” Steve sighs. “Well, I don’t have lots of food in there,” he says as he opens the fridge, “I was at Sam’s home for the last couple of days, but, oh, here are eggs, do you want scrambled eggs?”

Bucky smiles as he agrees, he sees that Steve is clearly nervous and that actually makes him even cuter than he normally is.

“Do you want to help me?” Steve asks. “You can chop these marinated dried peppers, it’s really good, especially with eggs.” He pulls the jar out the fridge and puts it on the counter.

Steve gives Bucky a knife, and he begins to look for the pan in the cupboards. When he finds it, Bucky is done with his peppers, and they throw everything in the pan. Bucky sits on the stool at the bar, and he thinks apparently Steve doesn’t have a normal table with chairs. Steve gives them plates and asks Bucky to put the food on them, when he opens one of the lower cupboards and pulls out some red wine.

“As we can’t get drunk,” he says as he sticks the wine opener into the cork, “I thought wine would be a great idea.”

Bucky laughs and puts the pan into the sink. He spots wine glasses through the glass cabinet and pulls them out, placing them next to the plates. Steve pours wine into the glasses and they sit opposite each other.

“Steve,” says Bucky, and Steve’s eyes get filled with affection. “Is that a date?” Bucky bursts out laughing, so does Steve.

“I wish I could take you to some better place,” Steve shakes his head and looks at the plate, “with some better food…”

Bucky giggles and Steve thinks how beautiful this sound is, it warms up his heart and he can’t stop staring into Bucky’s blue eyes.

 

Even though it’s really late, none of them wants to head to bed. Sleeping isn’t restful for them anymore, and they don’t even bother asking each other _Aren’t you tired?_ Of course they are, and they’re painfully aware of that. They sit on the couch, comfortably close to each other. Wakanda isn’t the hottest place on earth, that‘s why Steve covered them with a blanket. They watch some late news program with a summary of the day, and Bucky feels weird as he hasn’t known what was going on in this world for the last two years. Everything seems so new to him, he asks Steve about things he doesn’t understand, and Steve gives him long answers with a lot of details.

At some point Bucky’s head just falls on Steve’s shoulder and he curls around him. He feels as Steve’s heart beats faster for a moment, then comes back to its normal pace as he places his right arm around Bucky, pulling him to himself, making him feel safer. And Bucky does feel safe, he feels normal and Steve gives him the feeling of home, of stability, even though nothing is stable at the moment. And he can't understand how it happened that they’re together again, how they are still alive, how they live in this minds and bodies filled with demons of the past. How can they just get up in the morning and look in the mirror, knowing that they’re not themselves anymore?

He looks up at Steve, into his empty eyes and dark circles underneath them, and when he looks back, Bucky closes his eyes. It feels exactly the same as when he fell asleep in the ice, he feels coldness around his skin but it comes with peace, stillness that could soothe him to sleep. And that’s maybe the only way to feel like a human.


	3. желание

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry you had to wait sooo long for new chapter but depression has knocked me down for that time :/ But I'm writing another one and it'll be done soon! So stay tuned.
> 
> Dicks out for my new pal @louisintheskywithdiamonds who volunteered to read this before posting, you're doing god's work ;)

"It has been over twenty-six months since we've heard from Captain Steve Rogers. The former superhero-turned-fugitive has disappeared after the events in Germany and Russia, leaving millions of fans concerned about his life and well-being. The conflict between him and Tony Stark left behind many victims, as well as great financial losses. Mr. Stark himself refuses to give an official statement concerning the incident, citing the fact that he is still unaware of Captain Rogers' location. In fact, Rogers is not the only person whom the government is looking for. Captain America has taken his assassin-turned best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, with him, as well as Sam Wilson and Wanda Maximoff, both of whom had also played their part during the events in Sokovia over three years ago.

Even though James Barnes has been acquitted from all charges accompanying the accusations against him for planting a bomb at the Accords conference in Vienna, he is still considered very dangerous, having been credited with over two dozen assassinations. And now, many people are beginning to ask themselves, 'Can we trust these people? Can we still trust Captain America and the Avengers?'

We hope that these questions will be answered by this morning's special guest, General Thaddeus Ross. Mr. Ross, what does the situation look like now? Are there any clues that could lead to Captain Rogers' location?"

"Good morning, Christine. I'd like to start by saying that we probably shouldn't call Mr. Rogers the 'Captain' anymore, as it appears he's abandoned the responsibilities that come with such a title...but yes, there are a few clues that could lead us to their safe house."

"Can I ask what you've found so far?" asks Christine.

"I don't believe I'm allowed to disclose anything on live television," Ross chuckled coolly.

"Oh, of course."

He took on a more serious tone. "What I can tell you is I don't think we can trust either Steve Rogers or the rest of the Aven-"

The screen turns black and Bucky stands up from the couch, tense. He hears a quiet rustle behind him, and immediately turns around, already in defensive posture.

Steve leans over the doorframe, holding a plastic bag in his left hand and TV remote in his right. He looks at Bucky with emotionless eyes. "You shouldn't watch that," he says, and heads up to the kitchen.

Bucky takes a deep breath and comes closer, stopping at the same place Steve was seconds ago. "They say they have clues that could lead them here, that they're getting closer to finding us," Bucky says quietly.

"They don't know shit." Steve sounds harsh, and he looks tired. So, so tired. He begins transferring food from the bags into the fridge.

Bucky doesn't reply; he doesn't want to argue about this again. He thinks that maybe Steve's right, maybe the government is just pretending that the man hunt is going well, so that people would calm down and get off their backs. Bucky lets go of that thought. "Where were you?" he finally says as he crosses his arms.

"Brought us food, didn't you notice?" Steve looks up at Bucky and practically stares at him for a longer time than it's probably appropriate to.

"Alright. Sorry. I mean, I just woke up and the apartment was empty, I got pretty scared..."

"Yeah, sorry, Buck. I guess I didn't want to wake you, considering you don't sleep that well. Or that often," sighs Steve.

Bucky looks up at him. "Neither do you."

Silence fills the room, and it gets awkward pretty quickly as they both realize the meaning behind Bucky's words.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asks Bucky. "About that dream?"

Steve is silent.

"You know, I have them too. I know how much it hurts..." Bucky's voice is almost like a whisper. "It helps me when I talk about them with you, it really does." He gives out a small smile, looking almost as forced as his words sound.

But apparently Steve appreciates it because he smiles back. His blue (mostly gray, now) eyes are flanked on either side by little crinkles, deeper now than they were before. They make him look happier, but even more tired and older.

Bucky thinks it's important that they try to smile, try to talk and share. It makes bad days a little better, even if their emotions aren't entirely real. Like maybe for the first time ever, he feels hope. Even if it's just a small seed, even if just for a brief moment, but he does. Steve is his hope, even though he feels empty now, even though he randomly stares off for hours, just as Bucky used to do. Bucky loves his empty eyes, even if they've lost some of their blue, as they fill with affection when they see Bucky truly smiling.

He suddenly feels Steve's arms around him, and the softness brings him back to reality, chasing the thoughts away. He places his right arm on Steve's back and strokes it delicately; he knows Steve finds it calming. Steve's head lies on Bucky's shoulder, and he closes his eyes and takes deep breaths. In those moments they both wish the time would just stop.

"You got skinny, kid," Steve whispers, his voice joking. The sadness underneath is still far too obvious.

"Quit calling me kid. I'm 101 and one year older than you," Bucky murmurs into Steve’s neck.

"Gosh, we're fucking old," Steve gives out a tiny laugh and tightens his arms around Bucky.

Bucky lets himself laugh a bit too. It reminds him of old times, Brooklyn, boring evenings spent playing with Steve, when his mom took them to a comedy show for the first time, when Steve lost his ticket and they had to buy a new one.

"Thanks, Buck," Steve whispers as they finally let go of each other.

***

The metal bracelets tighten around the small wrists. They're adjusted to the tightest setting, but it still doesn't seem to be enough. The boney hands begin to shake, bitten nails tremble over the metal handles, and the room is filled with soothing music. It's as loud as the storm, but doesn't seem to be coming from there. It feels like a whisper, one that bores into the skull and shakes your entire body, like a thunderbolt from far away. It brings along with it fear and panic, which seem to echo and bounce off the stone walls. Nobody can hear the screams or the music, nobody will come to help, nobody will come back anymore.

A small boy sits in the chair. He can't breathe. Everything he has is gone, everything is gone, gone, _gone_. He's quiet as he screams. The music takes the voices away, and it makes everything last longer with the rhythm.

It hurts to watch, to even think about being in his skin, to close his eyes and just listen to the music. Everything is present, it's running through his head all the time, all the time he has left. What's gone is never coming back, and that hurts even more than his mind does. The machine is born and the human left behind.

The music stops as it hears the screams.

***

"Buck, it's okay, it's just a nightmare. I'm here. Can you hear me? You're here with me, we're safe... Wake up!" Steve holds Bucky's face in his hands and tries to get to him through the long and painful groans.

"NOO!" Bucky cries, and he can't do anything, he can't undo what's been done, can't change the past, he can't wake up.

Steve holds him tightly, pressing his face to his chest and stroking his hair and back. It happens almost every other night. Bucky still thinks he's dreaming. Even when he's awake, he screams in pain. Nobody else could handle this. He's being torn apart.

"Shh, Buck. I'm here, it's Steve. You are not there anymore, it won't happen to you again, you're safe with me," Steve keeps repeating the familiar mantra.

Bucky soon realizes he was dreaming, and proceeds to lie on Steve like he's a pillow. He cries in fear, the panic still strong in his lungs and mind. He can't catch his breath, and Steve's constant touch still seems like it isn't real. He can't erase the image out of his head, it feels like it's just happening over and over again, and nobody comes to free him. 

His head is heavy, like it's filled with stones. His body is cold, and even though he's shivering, he's all covered with sweat that just sinks into the bedsheets. He can see the concrete walls of his old cell, the steel bed and it's lone, scraggly blanket, and the countless tally scratches above where his head used to lie. His only way to mark the passage of time.

"I won't let them hurt you anymore, I promise," Steve whispers, and there's something in his voice that makes Bucky eager to follow that voice to his death, and he thinks it's probably why he _was_ such a great Captain.

Bucky thinks he can believe Steve; after all, he's never let him down. He opens his eyes and looks at the man holding him tight. The blue light of the early morning throws shadows across Steve's face, and Bucky can't tell if he's smiling or crying from his upside down view. So he sits on the bed, wipes his tears off with a hand and sniffs loudly. Steve places both hands at either of Bucky's cheeks again and pulls Bucky's head closer to his own, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Bucky smiles at the gesture of love and affection, and the last of the tears fall down his face. He raises his head slightly and quickly kisses Steve's red lips before leaning over his shoulder and wrapping his right arm around Steve's back. He presses quick kisses to Steve's neck, who then blushes, chill-bumps rising up across his body.

"You were on _the chair_ ," interrupts Bucky, so quietly he almost can't decipher his own words.

"What?" Steve mumbles.

"In that dream. It was you on the chair. I was watching as they wiped you..." Bucky takes a deep breath. "I couldn't do anything."

“It's okay, Buck, just a dream. We have to remember that. It never happened," Steve strokes Bucky's hair and pats his back.

"Could have," he protests.

Steve sighs. Of course it could have. But it didn't.

Bucky is paranoid and he usually doesn't acknowledge that. He can't recognize many of the things he's feeling. His mind is constantly on the run, trying to escape the horror that still lies within.

 

When Steve wakes up an hour later, he sees Bucky sitting in the chair in the corner of their bedroom.  He's talking to himself under his breath again. Actually, it happens quite often. Steve doesn't know why yet, he's never asked Bucky about it, not that he expects him to acknowledge it. Bucky never says anything that makes perfect sense, he usually just mumbles random words, staring into the void, not moving too much. Steve always wonders if he dreams at these moments, an ingrained reaction to the shock he's been through. Sometimes he recognizes words  that are spoken in different languages. When Bucky's feeling better, he likes to sing songs in the shower, but they're always in another language. Maybe talking to himself helps him cope, or maybe it's his own mind playing tricks in him again. 

Steve decides to let Bucky stay where he is, so he gets up and heads to the kitchen. The clock on the microwave says 6:07 a.m. Steve convinces himself that they've both had a decent amount of sleep. He grabs the coffee pot and frowns, realizing he forgot to ask T'Challa for another bag, as this one isn't going to last them much longer. He sighs and makes the coffee anyway.

 

He's startles as he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder.

"You shoulda slept in the bedroom, not kitchen table," says Bucky as he sits in front of him. "Sorry you didn't get to sleep last night. S'my fault."

“It's not ya fault, Buck," Steve yawns and rubs his eyelids with both hands. "We have all day for sleeping, I ain’t mad." He gives Bucky a lazy smile and places his hand on Bucky's, which is resting on his lap.

None of them say a word for a moment. Bucky just grabs Steve's hand and strokes it with his thumb.

"Are you alright?" asks Steve.

Bucky thinks for a moment, looking at their hands, then he lifts his eyes up, staring straight into  Steve's, which are now surrounded by dark-circles.  "No, not really."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I tried to write some fluff but couldn't help and it's angsty as hell again.
> 
> I've got tumblr @dvnverscarol and youtube channel 'the jericho', if you want to see my videos.


	4. The Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hella fellas, i decided to make series out of this. i'm teasing it with #gaysinspace, stay tuned!

"You know what, pal?" asks Steve as he puts dishes into the cabinet.

Bucky leans his head out from the bedroom, holding a bed sheet in his right hand. He's making their bed, struggling not to drop anything on the floor. "Yeah?" he mumbles with a corner of the pillow in his mouth.

"I thought that maybe we could go visit Challa."

"You talked with him 'bout it?" Bucky frowns.

"Yeah. You could work out on the gym and others would be there, too. It's going to be...fun."

Steve turns around and spots that Bucky standing behind him. He smiles at him but Bucky doesn't return the sentiment. He's looking ahead with emotionless eyes, thinking, considering.

"What others?" asks Bucky hesitantly.

"Nat, Wanda, Sam...I don't know," Steve shakes his head.

"And _Tony_?" Bucky's voice is barely audible.

"No, he won't be there," Steve looks straight at Bucky's face. He knows Bucky is afraid of Tony. Not because Tony would ever hurt him again, but because a direct confrontation with a man who lost _everything_ he had because of Bucky would be too painful for either of them to handle.

Bucky doesn't think Steve wants to see Tony either. Because even though they forgave each other, there's still a great, ugly laceration that can't seem to heal, despite time's efforts.

"So...what do you think about it?" Steve asks.

"Alright. But only if I don't have to interact with everybody." He comes back to the bedroom. "I know they don't like me."

Steve opens his mouth to deny Bucky's words but quickly he realizes it's true. He doesn't like to lie to Bucky, and he's already done _enough_.

***

Natasha picks them up from an empty bus stop two blocks away from their flat. She's wearing sweatpants and a simple T-shirt – not something Steve's used to seeing her in. She's even changed her hair to a pretty plain, red pixie cut. Steve thinks it's impossible for a person to look great in every haircut, but here is Natasha.

She tries to start a conversation with Bucky tossing out a couple of simple questions, but he either nods or answers with 'yes' or 'no’. She decides to give him some space and talks with Steve instead, inquiring about their new life with Bucky.

"You don't get to see much of the outer world, do you?" Steve turns back, looking at Bucky. He's staring at the window, almost as if he weren't there. When Bucky doesn't acknowledge the question, Steve strokes his hand gently, and Bucky turns his eyes to him.

"Are you okay?" asks Steve. He's concerned, and Bucky thinks of how Steve reminds him of his mother. She, too, always looked at him with these frowned eyes, every time Bucky came home with bruised knuckles and cheeks, every time he fought Steve's bullies. Bucky always thought she was angry, and she most likely was. She used to scream at both of them, probably because she was afraid they were never going to grow up out of this. Bucky thinks she was right.

"Buck?" Steve almost sings, lengthening the word.

"Yes," Bucky stutters, "I'm fine."

"Hey, I've got some pretty cool CDs in the glove compartment underneath your seat, Steve, if you guys don't want to listen to the radio," Natasha says, saving them from the uncomfortable silence.

"Thanks," says Steve. He leans down and scans through the albums.

He grabs five of them and gives all to Bucky.

"Choose somethin’," he says with a soft smile.

"I'm, um, not good with music," Bucky chuckles, trying to make light-hearted fun. He takes the CDs anyway, but doesn't recognize any of them, so he just stares at the covers and tries to guess what kind of music that is. He looks for the dates of release and picks the oldest one. "Here," he gives it to Steve in the front seat.

"Queen," reads Steve out loud, "I like them. Guess you'll like them, too, Buck." He puts the record into the player and the sound of guitar fills the car.

"Hey, how much longer will it take to get there?" Bucky asks.

"About two hours," says Nat.

 

Bucky falls asleep on the back seat, cuddling Steve's hoodie under his head. Steve and Natasha are talking with lowered voices, and eventually the music is switched to some jazz by John Coltrane & Duke Ellington playing on the radio.

"I don't know what you did to him last night," Natasha gives Steve a rogue smile, "but it doesn't look like he had any sleep."

Steve tilts his head down and laughs, blushing.

"I'm glad you have each other." Nat stops the car at traffic lights and looks directly at Steve, she nods and smiles. "I really do."

"So am I." Steve turns back to check on Bucky, then looks at Natasha again.

"Jeez. You look at him like you're a damn teenager." Nat shakes her head and moves the car. "What love can do to a man."

***

"Bucky," Steve's voice is soft and calming, "wake up." He grabs his right hand and pulls Bucky closer. "We're here."

Bucky mumbles as he gets out the car. He wraps his hand around Steve's shoulders and lies his head on Steve's neck. Steve doesn't complain, of course, as he wraps his arms around Bucky, too. They stay in this position for quite some time, until Natasha throws their backpack at Steve. "Come on, men. No time for hugging."

So they follow her. Steve goes first, and Bucky hides behind his back, not quite sure what to do with all these people.

Natasha enters a gaping room, with multiple couches in the center and a coffee table in-between. T'Challa and Sam sit next to each other, looking at a laptop screen.

"Hello, boys," Nat calls.

Both of them look up, with Sam getting up a second later and quickly hugging Steve, then genuinely smiling at Bucky. "Hey, man. How's it going?"

Bucky really _is_ happy to see Sam, so he smiles back. "Good. Thanks."

"Guess you're still not the talking type, are you?" Sam laughs and invites them to sit on the couch. Bucky hesitates for a moment, waiting for Steve to do it first, then takes a place right next to him.

"Your highness," Steve says to T'Challa, shaking his hand and laughing.

"Oh come on, first Wilson, now you," the young king says, shaking his head.

Natasha gives Steve a weird look that Bucky catches, he doesn't really know what it's supposed to mean, but he doesn't feel comfortable enough to ask any questions.

He thinks about that moment when nobody wanted to tell him his mother was dying. He remembers how he ran to Steve and told him all about it. He was just a kid, and doctors didn't bother to explain what was happening. They told him on the last day, they told him to say goodbye. They didn't think he would've ever understood.

"You wanna go to the gym?" Steve's looking at him now, and Bucky feels that something's different, but the noise in the room and the sudden inherency of so many people makes him agree.

 

T'Challa shows him the way, which is pretty complicated and Bucky thinks he'll never remember it. He tells him where are showers, a bar, so he could drink water, and the locker-room.

"Why do you need such a big gym?" Bucky asks, impressed.

"Oh, it's actually for all my employees. As you're all here, they're not allowed to enter some floors."

Bucky nods, and T'Challa leaves him on his own.

***

Bucky doesn't know how much time he spent on working out, but when he looks up, the sky is still bright, so he assumes it wasn't too long. He went to take a quick shower and dressed back his normal clothes.

He took a tour over the building, trying to find The Huge Room. He thinks it might've taken him at least twenty minutes. Suddenly, he hears people talking, and he hesitantly follows the sound.

"Last time you said something else-" He recognizes Steve's voice as he gets closer, and he decides to stop and listen to the conversation.

"-because we weren't sure what it was." Natasha's voice seems strange, different from the tone she had in the car.

"So they felt it, right?"

"Yes..." she stops for a moment. "Wanda says it's similar to the source of their power."

"So, you think it's another stone?"

"Looks like that."

Bucky hears as Steve sighs. "I don't get it. It doesn't make sense for it to appear now."

"Vision says there's somebody who...induced it." Her voice lowers. "You know, _if_ they're right, it's going to be the biggest threat we've ever faced."

"I told you I'm not fighting anymore."

"Steve, we need all the help we can get. I'm not telling you Barnes needs to fight, too, but we need _your_ help."

"No. I told you, _no_. I _won’t_ leave him." Silence fills the room.

"This is not the kind of mission you're coming back home from, Nat."

Bucky feels his heart pounds faster. He can't catch his breath, and begins to lose control over his thoughts and falls further, like he's trying to escape them but he can't. Natasha looks up and freezes when she sees him. Steve follows her eyes before standing up and going to Bucky, eyes filled with some feeling akin to disappointment. He's angry, but not at Bucky. He's angry with himself, for not being entirely truthful.

"Hey, shh. Breathe in, breathe out. Remember?" he tries to calm Bucky, placing his arms on his shoulders. "I am _not_ going anywhere."

Bucky counts to ten in his mind as he breathes in, then again as he breathes out. He opens his eyes and looks at Steve, still shaking.

"We are _safe_ ," says Steve, and in that moment it occurs to him (certainly not for the first time) that maybe they're not really safe. Maybe he's trying to convince himself that even more than he's trying to convince Bucky.

So he embraces Bucky, because it's the only way that he can prevent showing his face. Bucky can't  see he's scared, can't know that things aren't all right. Steve frowns as he stares at the hallway. He needs to figure out a plan. He knows he will have to fight, that he will have to leave Bucky or take him along. There is no choice. Not even the smallest of options. Only one alternative – die up there or die down here.

***

Bucky's sitting on the white marble counter in their apartment's bathroom, his back reflecting in the mirror wall, feet swaying in the air. "This place feels like a luxury hotel room, doesn't it?" he says with a smirk.

"Make hay while the sun shines. We're only staying for one night," says Steve, pulling his clothes out of the backpack in the bedroom.

"You're sure about that?" Bucky's voice sounds like a mix of irony and bitterness. He kicks his shoes off his feet.

"I told you, _I’m not_ going anywhere." Steve tries to make his voice sound as soft as possible, but ultimately fails. He pads to the bathroom and leans over the doorframe, crossing his arms and looking down. "I'm sorry, Buck," he shakes his head, as if doing that could help him to form the words. "I have no excuse. Guess I thought that would've saved you some problems." He lifts his eyebrow as he tries to smile.

"Were you ever planning to tell me? Or were you waiting 'til this guy blows up the whole planet?" Bucky asks, his composure still calm.

"I've never wanted to fight him. We would've stayed home anyway..." Steve looks up at Bucky before coming closer and placing his hands on the counter, right next to Bucky's thighs.

"Why?" he frowns. "Why don't you want to fight him?"

"'Cause now somebody's waiting for me at home." He looks into Bucky's eyes, now wide and open, his pupils growing even broader, covering the ocean blue iris.

Bucky closes his eyes and leans over, carefully pressing his lips to Steve's. And Steve doesn't even hesitate, he opens his mouth wider instead, gently stroking Bucky's lower lip. He moves closer, places both his hands on Bucky's cheeks and deepens their kiss even more.

"What about a bath?" Bucky separates their lips, mumbling.

"You mean, like a special bath?" Steve whispers, smirking.

"No...just a bath. A regular bath." Bucky places his hand on Steve's back and lays his head on Steve's shoulder. Steve hugs him, kissing the very top of Bucky's head. "I'm tired," he sighs.

"A bath would be great," Steve says as he smiles at his own reflection in the mirror. And suddenly, he feels startled. He's looking at the whole piece, at two people who abruptly became that wholeness, that one inseparable piece. And he feels Bucky's heart pounding to the rhythm of his own, the warmth of his body and Bucky's breath on his neck, his soft hair touching Steve's chin. He feels _whole_ , like the part that has been taken away once, is now back.

And he didn't need the shield to fight, to protect himself, to _believe_ in himself, to be the Captain America.

He's always had his shield.

 _Bucky is his shield_. He will always be.

And Bucky grabs the very end of Steve's T-shirt with his fingers, pulling it up and eventually bowing it out to Steve, then he pulls it off. Bucky takes a look at Steve's chest, giving Steve a quick smirk and stands up, pulling off his own clothes, too.

They end up lying together in the bubble-filled hot-tub. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, who's now on top, and Bucky just places his right hand on Steve's plaited fingers. Steve tilts his head back, comfortably leaning over the tub's wall, and he pulls Bucky closer, as if Steve was trying to keep him from drifting away. They both close their eyes and let their minds drown into the warmth of the soft water.

"Steve..." Bucky murmurs.

"Yeah?"

"I...I think we should go with them," he stutters.

"What are you talking about?"

"We should fight this threat."

"Why?" says Steve after a moment. His voice is soft, but full of disbelief.

"'Cause maybe it's the path to a pardon." Bucky lifts his eyebrows – not for Steve, but for himself – in doubt of his own words.

Steve sighs. His heart starts beating faster and he's afraid that Bucky may actually hear it, too. "Buck," he says with a shaky voice, "this is why we didn't sign the Accords. So nobody can force us to fight when we don't want to–"

"So what?" Bucky cuts him off in mid-sentence. "You wanna live in this place forever?"

Steve doesn't respond, and instead looks up at the snow white ceiling.

"This isn't life, Stevie. Not the life we've always craved, at least," he sighs. "It's even worse than being closeted..."

Steve actually laughs at that, and then Bucky does, too. He holds Bucky even tighter than before. "We finally have each other, what we've always wanted. I don't want all this to get fucked up in one moment, somewhere in space and – I can't lose you again, Buck. _I can’t_ ," Steve says softly.

Bucky's playing with Steve's fingers now, comparing them to his own, studying them closely, just like a child. "Guess we don't really have a choice..." he mumbles. "We can't hide in here forever, and I don't see any other way. This...or jail." He lays his head on Steve's chest again, taking a deep breath. "We can't be free," he whispers, voice full of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, this escalated quickly


	5. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

“I – I don’t…” Natasha’s looking at her feet. Her face portrays no emotions – an old professional quirk, as Steve would say – but with the stuttering, it’s pretty obvious that she’s bewildered. “They won’t acquit you... not just like that,” she purses her lips, “not – not at all...” she takes a deep breath and looks right into Steve’s eyes, slightly shaking her head.

Bucky can see the exact moment Steve’s emotions break, even though his features don’t change, not even a little. His face remains still as a stone, but his eyes echo with awe. Bucky’s probably more heartbroken by that sight than by the actual message. Then Steve looks right at him, his eyes blank now, gray and cold, looking almost frozen again. He opens his mouth, then clenches his jaw and heavily breaths out, he gives out a small smile and bites his bottom lip.

“It’s okay,” whispers Bucky. He narrows his eyelids, then blinks almost a dozen times in uneasiness.

“Right,” Steve nods, looking around the room.

Bucky quickly moves his eyes onto Natasha, as she steps back slowly, avoiding confrontation, fearing it, observing Steve with tense caution. Of course he lets her, why wouldn’t he? He gently grabs Steve’s shoulder, and to his surprise, Steve repels his hand. 

“What did I do…” Steve murmurs to himself.

Natasha and Bucky share a look, neither of them quite sure of the situation.

“I gave up everything... just for _you_ ,” he stops walking around the room with jittery hands to look at Bucky. “And now we have _nothing_...” he says, almost whispering.

Bucky looks at his face; it seems as if he’s about to cry. “We still have each other, remember?” he tries to take on a calming voice.

“It’s all _your_ fault...” says Steve, and the words hit Bucky right in the stomach, a surprise attack.  

“ _Steve_ , calm down,” Natasha almost barks, as if she thinks some tough scolding can bring him back. “There’s no situation without a solution, you have to remember that,” she looks at him like a concerned mother, stern but soft. “The government isn’t going to negotiate with any of us, so we’re going there on our own. They don’t know about any of this.”

Steve doesn’t seem to listen, he just squats on the floor, running his fingers through his blonde hair. Bucky comes to him and knees right beside him, hands hovering over the man he loves.

“My God. There’s no turning back, there’s no turning back,” repeats Steve, whispering to himself.

“Okay, I know. _I know._ It’s okay, we’ll figure this out.” Bucky places his hand on Steve’s. “Hey, just breath, _slooowly_. I know it seems tough now, but it’s just a panic attack. It’s all less frightening in reality, okay? Just breathe.”

Steve falls on his knees and tries to calm down, doing as Bucky says. “This has been happening way too often,” he sighs.

“No, it’s all right. We have the full right to feel like this.” Bucky smiles to him gently, tangling his fingers with Steve’s before pulling the both of them up and leading Steve to sit on the couch.

“I think we could find both of you a decent psychiatrist,” says Natasha, her voice hoarse from the stress.

“You’re sure about that?” asks Bucky. “That could…compromise our situation. I mean, leaving home regularly – “

“We’ll figure something out.” She crosses her arms and leans over the table.

The room falls silent, which is then broken by Steve’s quiet voice. “So, when are we leaving?”

Bucky takes a sit right next to him.

“Two days. We’ve got to gather the whole team,” Natasha nods.

“What’s the plan? How are we even going to get _up_ -” Bucky frowns, shaking his head. “– up _there_ , to wherever it is?”

“Well,” Natasha smiles, leaning back, “we know a few guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part One is over! I promise it won't take too long 'til I post first chapter in Part Two ;) Gotta say it'll look totally different, new location and characters, hope you will like it!  
> Also thanks to my "doing god's work pal" again. I really aprecciate your help bro


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